


Brevity

by ticklishblaine (lightsandsparks)



Series: Foray [3]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: D/s elements, Desperation, Desperation Play, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsandsparks/pseuds/ticklishblaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're 30,000 feet above the ground and Chris times his ideas pretty perfectly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brevity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/gifts).



> It's Mandy's birthday and this is all her fault, but I wouldn't have it any other way. <3

Chris startled awake in the middle of what would of been a very refreshing nap thank you very much, immediately glaring at the man sitting to his left. “Darren, what?! That hurt,” he chided, rubbing his side where it had just been unceremoniously pinched.

Darren smiled a little, in that way that always said “Oh shush, you love me,” and Chris immediately smiled back because yeah he did, unfortunately. “Sorry, but you need to get up,” Darren informed him. “Your legs are blocking my way to the aisle, and not that I’m complaining about them being a mile-long or anything, but they’re kind of inconvenient in a situation like this so, scoot.”

Chris giggled but made no effort to move. They were sitting on a cramped cross-country flight back to LA from New York, and he really wasn’t in any hurry to leave his somewhat comfortable seat, especially in a post-nap haze. “You’re going to sit there and complain about my legs being inconvenient when you can’t even lift yours high enough to step over mine? Seems like you’re the one with the issue here, bud.” 

Usually this would be the part where Darren agreed self-deprecatingly and then continued on with their banter, but instead he just rolled his eyes, nudging Chris in the ribs again. “Come on. We’re gonna be landing soon and I need to beat the seatbelt sign.”

Chris looked over upon hearing Darren’s tone of voice, and the look he found in the other man’s eyes set something off in Chris that went straight to his dick, if he was being perfectly honest with himself. Oh.

“You said we’re going to be landing soon?” Chris asked as Darren stood and started nudging Chris’ calf with his foot.

“I think so? Now can you please move?!” Darren was obviously trying to keep his voice playful and light, but his body language was communicating a different message entirely.

“No,” Chris grinned devilishly, grabbing a hold of one of the belt loops on Darren’s jeans and pulling it back down towards the seat. Then he quietly added, “You should wait.”

Darren immediately relented to Chris’ tug upon hearing those words, plopping right back back. He lifted a brow, searching Chris’ face as his own eyes sparkled with understanding. “Is that what you want?”

Chris felt the corners of his mouth twitch up, their charged eye-contact affecting him in a way that he usually wouldn’t allow in public. “The important question is if it’s something you want.”

Darren nodded enthusiastically, not hesitating for even a moment. “Yeah, I- yeah. I want to wait.” 

Chris smiled, resisting the urge to reach out and grab Darren’s hand. “How bad, right now?”

Darren shifted in his seat a little before shrugging. “Like... a 5, I’d say? Nothing too interesting yet.”

“Well that’s something we’re going to have to change then, isn’t it?” Chris didn’t wait for the answer before flagging down their flight attendant, asking her for an ice water and a small black coffee.

“You’re an evil human, Christopher Paul Colfer.”

“Can’t argue there,” Chris laughed. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he glanced around before leaning in to speak closer to Darren’s ear. “You know the word if anything gets to be too much though, right? All you have to do is say it and we can stop this right away.”

“Of course,” Darren nodded with actual sincerity, although he obviously couldn’t let that last for too long. “I’m pretty willing to trust you though, seeing as how you haven’t exactly steered me wrong before.”

“Nor have you,” Chris giggled, which in turn made Darren giggle by default. Chris felt his smile reach his eyes, tilting his head in a way that he knew would tell Darren he’d be getting kissed right now if they weren’t in public.

Almost the moment after the attendant returned with their (Darren’s) drinks, the seatbelt sign came back on, signaling the pilot was getting ready to land their plane. “Perfect timing,” Chris mused, slowly sliding the coffee towards his boyfriend. 

Darren cracked up at that. “Subtle as always.” He rolled his eyes playfully before taking a large gulp.  
\--

“What the fuck is taking so long, seriously,” Darren whined, peeking out the airplane window. They’d been circling over one of LAX’s runways for almost five whole minutes now, waiting for the strip to clear up as another plane landed ahead of them.

“It’s okay, Dare. Just relax,” Chris soothed, subtly giving Darren’s hand a quick squeeze.

“I am relaxed,” Darren reassured him. And it was true, actually. The dull pressure steadily building up inside of his bladder as it continued to fill would have been uncomfortable normally, but in this headspace it was different. It was welcomed, pleasurable. And knowing that he'd soon be desperate in a way that would put him completely at Chris' mercy was like the icing on an already delicious cake.

But that didn’t stop his instincts from reacting; because even though Darren was mentally welcoming the feeling, his body still had only one main objective at the moment: to force him to get to a bathroom as soon as possible. Fidgeting, restlessness and impatience were an inevitability.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer. How are you doing?” Chris asked.

Darren took a moment to gage himself. He could feel the weight of the coffee and the water he’d just chugged a few minutes ago in his stomach, and he knew he didn’t have much time before it made it’s way through him. He shifted to lean on the armrest closest to Chris, trying to take some weight off of his tender lower half. “I’m okay. For right now. It’s just... you know.”

Chris smiled, brushing his arm against Darren’s affectionately. “I know.”

“Hey,” Darren asked after a few moments, “Do you know what they call it when there’s a plane that’s circling a landing strip while it waits to land? A holding pattern, Chris. Isn’t that fucking ironic?”

That one made Chris snort embarrassingly loud. “Oh my god, I hate you so much.”  
\--

If Darren had thought waiting for the plane to land had been a trying feat, the actual landing itself was an event that proved even harder to endure. Keeping a death grip on Chris’ hand the entire time, he tried to sit up as straight as possible and even lifted himself off of his seat slightly, vehemently trying to avoid the effect he knew impact would cause inside his body.

But of course, despite his efforts, he still felt the pressure inside of him almost doubling in intensity when their plane hit the ground. He groaned; his bladder was letting him know that it was very unhappy with being jostled, and he squeezed his thighs tight together in an attempt to counteract the feeling. Thankfully, it helped. For now.

Darren let go of Chris’ hand, finally having realized how tightly he was gripping it. “Sorry man, you still got circulation in there?” Darren noted that his voice was shaking slightly, a reaction to the overwhelming feeling of his piss sloshing around in his body with the jerky movements of the plane. He narrowly resisted the urge to dig both of hands into his crotch and hold himself like a child.

“Yes, luckily for you. You alright?” Chris asked, eyeing the other man with a bit of concern. Darren nodded, but was unable to form a coherent response as he focused on keeping his body tight and in control.

It was another ten minutes before they were allowed to start exiting the plane and Darren was getting antsy. It was a crowded flight and he knew they’d still have to wait around in the aisles, slowly making their way to the front as everyone took their sweet time getting off. Normally, he wouldn’t mind something like this, and would probably relish to opportunity to talk to random strangers about their destination or or departures or about the meaning of life in general, but today Darren’s legs just wanted to move and they wanted to move right off that plane (and technically into a bathroom) as soon as humanly possible.

When it was their turn to leave Darren slowly stood, his now full bladder loudly protesting the movements. However, once he managed to straighten himself out he found he felt much better, the constriction of sitting no longer an issue. Still, he had to cross his legs together tightly when the line of people waiting to get off the plane in front of him came to a standstill outside of the bathroom door, unable to stop himself from thinking about the incredible relief that using it would provide.

Despite his mounting urgency, Darren managed to make it off the plane, through the jetway and into the airport terminal looking like a mostly causal member of society. Giving himself something to focus on always helped, so he made sure Chris was walking in front of him the entire way and yes, that provided the perfect kind of distraction.

The baggage claim was where he ran into issues again. Standing in one spot with no excuse to move around was doing nothing to help him; if anything, it was making his situation worse and he began pacing, babbling to Chris about anything he could think of, trying any tactic he could think of to distract his frantic mind as it tried to get him to focus on his full bladder. 

But it was okay, because Darren knew this was just a faze. He knew that if he just got past this initial urgency he would ultimately reach a plateau where his body would calm, resigning itself to holding and allowing him to forget about his needs for a while. That was just how his anatomy had always worked and it was only a matter playing the waiting game at this point.

Unfortunately, Chris knew this, too.

“Hey,” he interrupted Darren’s rambling. “All that talking and pacing is probably making you thirsty, huh?”

Darren stopped rambling long enough to look Chris in the eye, and the mischievous glint he found there immediately made him start to harden in his briefs. Fuck, Chris wanted him to drink more? Well... it wasn’t completely farfetched; they both knew how much Darren could hold, and of course Darren himself knew his limits better than anyone, but the thought of putting any more liquid into his body right now, with the way his bladder was clenching and begging him for relief... it just seemed ludicrous.

Which is exactly why he agreed. “Yeah, it is.”

“Wait for our bags, I’m going to head over to the vending machines, okay?” Chris stated more so than asked him.

Darren nodded, and a minute later their bags appeared on the conveyor. Darren didn’t know if Chris had seen their bags ahead of time and had purposely timed his departure for this exact moment, but either way Chris was a rotten bastard and Darren was going to make him pay for it later. Probably.

After struggling to get their bags off the conveyor for longer than Darren would have liked to admit, Chris returned and subtly shoved a cold water bottle into his hand. It was only a 16oz, so not huge, but still. It was enough to intensify things pretty significantly. Which, if he was being honest, was fucking exciting.

“I want you to chug it all by the time we leave this airport,” Chris told him, voice taking on that stern quality that Darren always relented to so easily. “I’m going into head to the parking lot now and pull my car around. I’ll meet you by the gate, and I don’t want that thing getting in with us unless it’s empty and you couldn’t find a trashcan, got it?”

Darren felt his jaw drop a little, the authoritative tone making his head spin, dizzy with arousal. “Yeah,” Darren promised, cracking the water bottle and finishing almost half of it in a single gulp. “Got it.”

If Darren needed any more confirmation that he was being fucked with on purpose, it came when he realized he’d been standing at the gate waiting for Chris to show up for almost twenty minutes. The parking lot was literally 100 feet away from baggage claim area and it would have taken Chris about five minutes to make the trip there and back. Darren almost laughed at the situation (because honestly he would have done the same thing had their roles been reversed) but right now his body was making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than its growing need. 

The water in his stomach was currently pressing down on his already full bladder, intensifying the feeling of internal pressure and urgency. He wanted so badly to cross his legs, to reach down and hold himself, to do something that would help keep him check but he couldn’t. There were people everywhere and what if someone recognized him?! This was LAX; for all he knew there were already about twenty paparazzi shots of him currently circulating the internet from this afternoon alone. So yeah, acting casual was pretty much key.

Luckily, Chris finally decided to show up, lazily pulling the car in front of him where he was standing at the gate with their bags. Darren unceremoniously shoved them in the back before hoping into the passenger seat, every movement of his body extremely precise and calculated.

“Drive!” Darren pleaded, trying to catch Chris’ gaze so he could hit him with some quality puppy-dog eyes.

“In a hurry are we?” Chris asked with a smirk, not meeting Darren’s eyes behind the sunglasses he was wearing.

“What do you think? I feel like my insides are floating.” 

“Well you better hope there’s no traffic, then.” 

Darren paused. Shit. He hadn’t even thought of that. “Of course there’s going to be traffic, this is LA!”

Chris’ expression turned serious, if only for a moment. “If you really can’t wait until we get home, there’s an empty water bottle in my backseat. Just let me know if it really gets to be too much, okay?”

Darren smirked. He knew he was being whiney, but Chris’ concern was endearingly unnecessary. “Are you questioning my abilities, Colfer?”

“That’s some big talk coming from someone who practically pissed themselves in my lap a while back. Completely by accident, I might add.”

“The key word we need to draw attention to here is ‘almost’, Christopher,” Darren informed indignantly. “Besides, you have absolutely no room to talk, since I seem to recall a certain event in a certain closet where a certain someone couldn’t even last through one full blow job, am I correct?”

“Fine, fine, fair enough,” Chris laughed, visibly blushing a little at the memory. “Now put your money where your mouth is.”

As predicted, they eventually did hit some classic LA stand-still traffic. But Darren was fine with that, finally having hit that plateau of neutrality that allowed him to mostly ignore his internal needs. Additionally, this gave him time to focus on the welcomed distraction of just being with Chris, the two of them easily passing their time for almost an hour, harmonizing with random Spotify playlists and trading gossip about the mutual friends they had caught up with in New York that weekend. It was wonderfully pleasant, until-

“Fuck,” Darren was suddenly struck with an urge so intense that he actually doubled over for a moment. He frantically unbuttoned his jeans and reached into his briefs, giving his dick a sharp squeeze, but even that wasn’t enough to abate the feeling. He started bouncing his leg, sucking in a breath and holding it as the sensations of desperation began to overwhelm him. He knew what was happening; that water had finally made it’s way through and that was apparently the nudge that he’d needed to push him over the edge. His bladder was straining, bursting with over-fullness and right now, he didn’t know whether to hate Chris or to love him. 

“Having problems?” Chris’ voice suddenly broke through the barrier of his thoughts.

Darren shifted, carefully turning towards Chris to fix him with a well-practiced pout. “I need to pee!” he wined pathetically.

“You don’t say?”

“No, I really, really need to pee, Chris. Like, it’s a 9.5 and I’m rounding down, here.”

Chris tilted his face so he was looking at Darren over his sunglasses. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just... desperate, now. How much longer do you think it’ll be before traffic breaks up?”

Chris snorted. “Gee, I don’t know Dare. Excuse me while I consult the mystical traffic deities of Los Angeles.” When Darren only huffed, Chris reached over and rubbed his thigh encouragingly, knowing the power of his touch meant more to Darren then any words could communicate. Still, he added, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be at my place soon.”

The longer the minutes stretched on, the more frantic Darren became. He couldn’t believe how badly he had to go, how quickly it had hit him. He wasn’t used to such sudden urgency; was more accustomed to a slow build and a heavy ache. But given the amount of liquids he’d consumed in such a small time, it all seemed to slam into him at once. Darren whimpered audibly, rubbing a palm over his throbbing cock, other hand pulling the seatbelt away from his tender stomach where his bladder was swelling beneath his skin.

Chris looked over worriedly. “If it’s really that bad then you should use that water bottle. I haven’t seen a single car budge in almost ten minutes.”

Darren turned, looking over his shoulder into Chris’ back seat. Sure enough, there was a huge water bottle laying on the floor next to the console. Fuck. The thought of letting himself explode into that water bottle, which was probably big enough to contain everything he was holding in... it was so tempting that his body couldn't help but react. His bladder spasmed and before he could stop it, a heavy squirt of piss shot out into his underwear. 

“Fuck!” Darren gasped, a hand flying to his crotch as he tried to clench his internal muscles as much as possible. “Chris, I’m leaking, shit, what should I do?!” 

“Use the water bottle Dare, just let a little out so we can make it home.”

“Yeah, yeah okay,” he agreed, the spasming bladder inside of him wholeheartedly welcoming Chris’ suggestion. However, just as he was about to turn around and reach for the bottle, he noticed that car in front of them began moving, signifying that traffic was finally breaking up.

Darren shook his head, making a quick decision. “I can make it. I’ve held my piss in all day plenty of times before and I’m not going to let a little desperation get the better of me. I can wait. I can so, totally wait.”

Darren didn’t miss the way Chris shifted in his seat, swallowing lightly. “I can’t tell if I’m exasperated by your stubbornness or turned on by it.” 

They both giggled, Darren’s laugh a bit more constrained than Chris’, for obvious reasons. “I’m thinking the latter,” he told Chris. 

“What a coincidence.”  
\--

Once the traffic had begun to break, it was a much easier trip to Chris’ place. It was still frustrating being that they were driving around in a city where everyone else drove like they had a death wish, but Chris was able to get them to their destination relatively safe and mostly sound. 

And not a moment too soon. Darren had been slowly dripping in his underwear for the past five minutes, and there was a small damp spot on his jeans. He would have tried to hide it from Chris; all that shit talking he did earlier was clearly coming back to bite him, but he just had to pee so fucking badly and it was the only thing he could concern himself with at the moment. His bladder was so stretched that it was beginning to ache; he was so desperate for release and he knew that the second they got in the door he’d be putty in Chris’ hands.

Darren moved carefully, slowly lifting himself off the seat and gently easing his body out of the car. Fuck, he had to go. His bladder was heavy; a large round weight inside of him as he tried to walk, every step jostling it and making him acutely aware of how overfull it was, how much piss it was holding, how desperate his body was to let it all out. 

It was starting to press down, getting closer and closer to bursting out of him with every step he took. He clenched his pelvic muscles, determined to keep it all in. He had to hold it; for Chris, for himself. He could make it. He could.

And he did make it (with a bit of difficulty), but nevertheless he managed to get himself into the apartment without incident, leaning against the wall next to the door and waiting for Chris to direct his next move. 

“What should I do now?” he asked, voice a bit strained as a wave of urgency surged through him. He grabbed his dick and gave it a squeeze; it was getting harder and harder to hold it in now that he could see the bathroom door.

“I want you to blow me,” Chris told him simply, standing in front of Darren and crowding him against the wall. “Right here, right now.”

Darren dropped to his knees almost instantly, ever enthusiastic about the chance to have Chris’ dick in his mouth. But apparently he’d made the wrong move because his tender bladder practically screamed at him, constrained as it was against the button of his jeans. “Can I unbutton my jeans first, though?” he asked, his voice coming out tight and he grabbed his crotch, trying with everything he had not to leak again.

“Yes. In fact, take your shirt off while you’re at it, too.”

Darren did as he was told, carefully removing his thin cotton t-shirt and tossing it to the side. He unbuttoned his jeans, but that did little in the way of providing any relief because he was still desperate beyond words. “Can we please start now?” he asked frantically. He wasn’t trying to speed things along per say, but the throbbing in his bladder combined with a now very pronounced and equally distracting throb in his cock, were both working in junction to make him more than a little impatient.

Chris nodded, unzipping and pulling himself out of his briefs. Darren’s mouth watered; Chris’ cock was already fully hard, pink and dripping and Darren wasted no time in taking it into his mouth, sucking hard and moaning at the feeling of the smooth skin against his tongue.

Darren was just starting to really get into it when his bladder rebelled, clenching and churning visciously. Darren groaned around Chris’ cock, hands flying between his legs and thighs snapping shut, vehemently trying to stop the impending flood that he knew could occur at any moment. He had to do something now or he was never going to last.

Using one arm to wrap around Chris’ thigh, he slipped a hand beneath the waistband of his briefs, taking his dick, warm and damp into his hand. He gave himself a squeeze before loosely stroking himself, knowing if he got hard it would be at least physically easier to hold in his pee.

But it wasn’t working. His cock was barely responding; not even the fact that he had Chris’s dick halfway down his throat was going to deter his body away from its mission. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it.

“Hey, hand out of your pants,” Chris demanded, nudging Darren’s shoulder. “You can hold it like a big boy.”

The thing is he really couldn’t, but he let go anyway and grabbed both of Chris’ thighs, hugging them closer. Whether this move was to take more of Chris’ dick in or to brace himself as he tried to control his bladder, he wasn’t sure. 

Darren was holding on by just barely a thread when suddenly he simply couldn’t anymore; his last grip on control finally slipped, the piss beginning to rush out of his body before he even knew what was happening. It splashed into his underwear, hissing loudly as it pooled in his jeans and rushed straight down his thighs. He was soaking himself, and the relief he was feeing inside was ecstasy. He moaned around Chris’ cock and heard Chris moan as well, but he couldn’t really tell if that was a reaction to the vibrations from his voice, or a reaction to him wetting himself. Perhaps both? 

Encouraged, Darren continued to flood his jeans as the picked up pace on Chris’ cock. The emptier he became the easier it was to concentrate, and by the time he’d finished pissing Chris was already shooting his load right down his throat. Darren swallowed, working his throat and making sure he didn’t choke.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Chris moaned, dropping to his knees to get on level with Darren. He grabbed the sides of his boyfriend’s face, kissing him deeply. “You did everything I asked. Now what do you want me to do for you?”

In a more selfish headspace Darren probably would have demanded anal, but right now he was just so relaxed and happy and well, exhausted, if he was being honest with himself so, “Can you just... with your hand? I don’t really have the energy for anything else right now.”

Chris smiled and nodded, more than happy to tug Darren’s wet jeans and briefs down his thighs, just enough to grab a hold of his half hard cock. Darren knew he wouldn’t be taking long; he never did when Chris was in charge because knew exactly what Darren liked; where to tug and when to squeeze soon he was coming hard, his body collapsing against the other man’s.

Luckily, Chris was there to catch him. Chris was always there to catch him.

They both panted for a few moments, kneeling on the floor and holding each other tightly as they came down, the two of them spent, but stated and happy nonetheless. “Hey Chris?” Darren asked softly. “Remember how you said I could have anything I want?”

“I’m not bottoming tonight Darren, I’m too damn tired.”

“No, we can save that for tomorrow. But right now we’re kind of sitting in the middle of a mess, and I’m pretty sure this mess is something I can hold you totally accountable for.”

“Ugh fine. I see where this is going,” Chris groaned, letting go of Darren and standing up. “I’ll clean up. Meet you in the shower in ten?”

Darren stood as well, reaching up to give Chris a quick kiss on the lips. “Deal.”


End file.
